


Starry Night

by Graysky



Series: My newsies fics that follow the same cannon [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 1 week writing challenge, 1899, Chrutchie is v young, Crutchie's birthday, Cute, Davey/Jack implied, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I LOVS, Katherine - Freeform, M/M, Short Story, Stars, Surprises, actually no, im trash, nvm, tbh this is so clean my grandma could read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysky/pseuds/Graysky
Summary: This is my 1 week writing challenge thing so I'm sorry if it feels rushed! (Also I suck ass at spelling lmao)Anyway, I feel like we ignore Crutchie and Katherine so there will be a lot of them in here. Have fun? Wish me luck and thank youBtw this is not a jack/crutchie fic lmao. Thanks





	Starry Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this site! I'm v excitied lol

**Chpt. 1**

**The Penthouse**

The city skyline blurred and twisted as my head lay on the hard, metal fire escape. In an attempt to not fall asleep so close to close to my friend, I decided to move. My weary body ached as I tried to sit up. The escape made a familiar metal creak, and I cringed at the sound . Jack noticed, and looked away from the mesmerizing sky. “Hey,” he whispered, putting a hand on my back. “Go back to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“You sleep up here too, y’know. Just giving youse some room,” I protested. He put his arm around me, and leaned us against the brick wall. This took weight off my leg.

“I stopped caring about space a long time ago,” he joked. I giggled at this, because it was far too accurate. This was the first time I'd ever really heard Jack acknowledge his issue with recognizing personal space.

“Whatever,” I said falling onto his shoulder.

The abundance of tall buildings seemed much less menacing when so distant. My anxieties and fears seemed to melt away when I was up there with him.

_________

Jack always told stories. Whether it was with words or paint, he'd spread imaginary worlds across a canvas. It'd take hours or multiple nights for him to finish them, but I always believed he'd created a masterpiece. Honestly, I was so hooked on the idea that there was so much more than what I experienced everyday. There were so many people to meet, places to see, and life to live. I loved the feeling of a new experience, and was easily excited by a slight change or happening. That's where Jack and I differed.

He always dreamt of a clear sky, In both a metaphorical sense, and physical. My dear friend endured the constant need to start over. Jack hated the routine, the industrial feel of New York and no one could blame him.

If I could capture the joy I feel when a pretty stranger smiles at me, or when someone buys a pape, I’d put it in a box and send it to Jack Kelly. This was because Jack was completely void of the ability to recognize the good things in life. And when he could, they have to be handed to him with a pretty bow and a card that reads: ‘This is a good thing! I promise!!' 

(That was a bit of a lie, Jack couldn't actually read.)

 

I loved my brother, but he always wanted more. It wasn't the healthy, childlike wonder I felt when dreaming of new places, but a negative look on his life. 

In those last few years on the fire escape, I noticed a change in him.  I was getting older, and Jack was growing colder. Three years didn't age him as they did to me, and The city didn't wear him down  like it did to his Pop,

New York lit a fire under Jack Kelly's feet. 

**Author's Note:**

> Longer chapters coming soon


End file.
